


Accidentally Hurt by a Friend

by I_eat_nightmares



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Accidentally hurt by a friend, BTHB, Gen, Kinda, Post Season 3, Whump, its not as serious as most whump but he is stabbed and then restabbed so i think it counts, my first work for daredevil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_eat_nightmares/pseuds/I_eat_nightmares
Summary: Matt doesn't want to tell his friends he got hurt, and that leads to unforeseen consequences.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Karen Page
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	Accidentally Hurt by a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Daredevil has been my favorite show for about two years now but i've never written for it and honestly i don't know how I did so feel free to let me know, all comments are appreciated! this fills a square for the bad things happen bingo with the same name as the title. Finally, I started writing this at 11 and am posting at 2 am so if there are typos just let me know.

Matt had a supremely shitty night. He had shitty nights often, how can you not when you get into multiple fights with criminals in the span of just a few hours before returning home to three hours of sleep tops? That kind of night was typical for him, however, so they were much easier to deal with. If his shitty night consisted of just cuts and bruises, it was a miracle as far as he was concerned. Easy patrols like that are what drive him to go to mass every week, hoping for more (that, and the heavy stares he can feel deep in his soul from Maggie when he misses a week).

The previous night started as just your average shitty time, a few punches that would leave some bruises, but none to his face, and just one small cut from a very drunk man with a knife that wouldn’t even need stitches. In fact, it was looking to be one of the best days Daredevil had had in quite a long time. Naturally, since this was Matt Murdock and his horrible luck, absolutely everything went wrong in what should’ve been the last leg of his patrol through the kitchen. 

He was just two short minutes from his home, he could see his roof and was almost there when he heard a child screeching in the alley below him. Matt had to ignore many things in his life. If he didn’t overlook or bypass a majority of the issues he could hear when he really listened, he’d be running around in his suit all day and probably wouldn’t have even lasted a week, so no matter how wrong it felt he should’ve kept going.

Matt had made a promise to Foggy and Karen to be more careful about Daredeviling and when that promise fell through not even a week later, he promised he’d at least come to work on time and not visibly injured beyond explanation. If Matt didn’t keep going, there was a chance he’d get no sleep and his work performance would suffer, and while Matt did not want to do that for both the sake of and the fear of his coworkers, Matt also saw that this could be something simple. Just lead the child to his mother and he gets home to a glorious five hours of sleep before work. Matt decided to be an optimist just this once and help the kid. 

Six hours later, Matt managed to reunite the boy with his fathers. His fathers who did not live in Hell’s Kitchen. His fathers who did not live near the Kitchen. His fathers who were nigh impossible to find and scandalised when Matt brought them their young son to their hotel, who had spent the last few hours with Maggie as he followed the boys instructions to what he believed was his home. Matt took a wrong turn and found himself in the middle of a drug den, where he got the crap beat out of him. Eventually, Matt was able to call the police to collect the dealers, but not before getting hurt much more than he was willing to admit to Foggy. 

He was an hour late and had no time to sleep, so he simply bandaged all of his wounds and stuffed his first aid kit into his briefcase to fix himself up at work. He quickly called Foggy, claiming he’d overslept and would be at their new office in just a few minutes. 

“I promise I will get you both coffee and pastries from the good cafe down the street at lunch if you both let me get to work without question.” Matt knew the best way to enter the office and avoid confrontation now, all it took was a bit of bribery.

Karen hummed lightly in consideration, most likely giving him a once over before deciding. Just as Matt heard her start to answer, Foggy chimed in from his office.

“No way, Man.” The other man pushed aside the curtain currently serving as his office door until they could afford a proper one. “I know you think bribing us is going to work every time, but the last time you overslept was when you were dead for months, so what really happened?” Foggy and Matt grew closer than they had been since college over the past few months at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, which was amazing and something Matt considered impossible not too long ago, the only downside being Foggy was able to find out all of his tricks quickly again and was good at shutting him down. 

“Overslept? Matt, really, I’m gonna be honest, this would’ve fooled me a while ago, but you refuse to be even two minutes late any more and barely get enough rest. You did not oversleep.” Karen stood up from her previous perch on a desk they had gotten from Foggy’s uncle and set in the center of the room and moved to get a closer look at Matt, trying to find any injuries. Thankfully he’d wrapped all his wounds well enough that none had bled through yet, but he needed to go, seeing as it would not last. 

Matt smiled at Karen in the same charming way he always did. “There were some… special allowances made to my no sleeping rules.” He wiggled his eyebrows at his coworkers. 

“Who was it?” Foggy did not believe him, that much was clear from the tone of his voice alone, which was good, since Matt couldn’t pay much attention to anything but the pain he was feeling and sensing if any blood was seeping its way into his clothes.

“I am pretty sure you shouldn’t ask that. We’re coworkers, Fogs. This is not professional discussion.” Matt tried to go to his office, sweeping with his cane as he went and tapping on Karen’s ankles when she didn’t move.

“Maybe not, but we just have to say we're not open now to ask unprofessionally.” Matt just smiled and shook his head once more, continuing to tap on her leg lightly until she let him by a moment later. 

Matt was eternally grateful for the lack of windows in to back space of a butchers shop they called an office, because that meant Foggy and Karen couldn’t see him with his shirt off stitching up the cuts on his torso (and he thanked God, Mary, and every saint he could think of that they didn’t see his with his pants down to sew the cuts on his legs). He’d cleaned all the cuts before bandaging them at home and he smelled no infection yet, so there was no alcohol on the floors for his friends to find. Matt thought he was home free a quarter of the way threw the last cut, a stab wound on his shoulder. It was going to hurt like hell to move that arm for a while, but he’d be fine and his makeshift family would be none the wiser. 

“Hey, Matt,” Foggy called from the center space connecting the three offices. Matt dropped the needle to let it lay on his arm as he put on his shirt at record speed, leaving only the top button undone and forgoing his tie completely, moving his hands to the papers on his desk just as Foggy pushed open his door. 

“Foggy?” Matt stalled his hands over one line of text and turned his head innocently to the doorway. 

Foggy pulled the chair across from Matt closer to the desk to sit and then scoffed. 

“Mr. Murdock, I will have you know that casual Friday takes place on Fridays in this office, ties are a requirement all other days of the week. Failure to comply will result in firing.” Foggy was fiddling with a pen he’d probably forgotten to set down as he spoke, and he poked it toward Matt playfully at the end of his sentence. 

Matt released a scoff of his own and replied, “Mr. Nelson, we all know Ms. Page is the only one allowed to make personnel changes in this office. On the topic, however, I do seem to remember someone having very long, unprofessional hair in this business not too long ago.” Matt tried his damnedest not to lean over and ease the pain of the wound on his stomach like he wanted and mostly succeeded in making his movement look like a lean toward the other man. 

“Wow, buddy, a joke about my precious lost hair? I’m hurt!” Foggy sat up straighter and pressed a hand to his chest before shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m going down to the precinct to meet a client, you in?” 

Foggy was just asking as a formality, Matt always wanted to come help and double check the honesty of their clients. Matt was fucked the minute Foggy asked, since he couldn’t say no or yes without consequences. 

Matt leaned back, ignoring his body's protests, and shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll sit this one out. I have a lot of paperwork over another case and it’s not gonna do itself.”

The moment he finished speaking, Matt could feel Foggy’s withering stare on him, searching for signs of injury or hangover, which had been the only things to stop him from taking on more work now that he could to lower the burden on his partners. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Matt huffed out a small awkward laugh. “I kinda spilled coffee on my pants and don’t want to show off the stain.” 

Foggy stared at him a moment longer before chuckling himself. “Lead with that next time, pal. Alright, I’ll see you wh-” 

Matt had almost forgotten about the pen Foggy held, tuning out that part of his body language to focus on more pressing details. He was joltingly reminded of the object when Foggy went to poke him in the shoulder with it. Foggy grew up in a family that liked to rough house and put too much force into things like playful taps sometimes. It wouldn’t have been that big a deal if he hadn’t just poked his pen into Matt’s stab wound. 

The injured man gasped loudly and grabbed his injury tightly, hissing through his teeth when his hand made contact. 

“Fuck!” He was going to have to put his jacket back on. There was blood on his shirt now and his hand as well. Matt hunched over to lessen his other pains and squeezed tightly on his arm, feeling the needle poke at his skin.

“Holy shit, Matt! Are you okay?” Foggy stood up and leaned closer to Matt. He pried the other man’s hand off the wound and cursed at the blood. “I’m sorry, man. You said you were okay, though. Oh, shit. Here, take off your shirt so I can see-” Foggy reached towards Matt’s shirt collar to help him get it off without pain, but Matt jumped back in his seat and swatted at his friend out of habit, grimacing at the sharp spikes of pain it caused across his torso. 

“I’m fine, Fog. Just need to finish stitching that up and I’m all good. Don’t you have a client to meet?” 

Foggy steamrolled right past his attempts at distraction, “I can see a cut on your chest from here, Murdock. Let me see what’s wrong before you decide it all okay.” He made another move towards Matt’s collar, and Matt used his less injured arm to hold his hand still. 

“What about the client, Foggy? You’re always complaining that we don’t make enough money and we have to have clients for money.”

The two continued their struggle, Foggy using his two uninjured arms to his advantage to open buttons in a way very reminiscent of their college days when one would be too drunk to do anything and the other would help them get undressed and into bed. 

“Karen, can you call the local precinct and tell them I’m gonna be delayed,” the blond called over his shoulder, trying to keep partially turned toward Matt as they struggled. 

“Sure, why?” Karen popped her head into Matt’s office and gasped at the visible bruises on the parts of Matt’s torso Foggy had freed from the shirt. 

Karen went into Foggy’s office to make the call before returning with the first aid kit she kept in her purse. When she returned, Foggy had won the battle and was looking at the bloody, partially stitched cut on Matt’s shoulder. Said man was slouched back in his chair, almost pouting as his companions inspected his handy work.

“Karen, do you have any alcohol to clean this with?” 

As soon as Karen passed off a bottle of some type of alcohol, Matt resigned himself to spending the next twenty minutes observing as his two close friends tried to figure out how to do proper stitches with him as a test dummy. 


End file.
